No Rest For The Wicked
by little-boo
Summary: Reflections on a life lost. WxS one shot. Warning: Character death.


Author: tenchisaz  
Fandom: Hellsing  
Pairing: Walter and Seras  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T  
Genre: Tragedy  
Words: 1,587  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or any of the characters.  
Summary: Reflections on a life lost.  
Note: Thank you rosehiptea for editing this for me.

**No rest for the wicked**

White-gloved hands smoothed over pale marbled stone. He moved his hand to the base and picked up a few stray leaves that had gone to rest there. Moving his eyes over the writing on the stone in front of him.

**In Memory of Seras Victoria**

**Friend and Comrade**

**Rest in Peace**

He skipped the dates underneath; it wasn't as if he needed to be reminded of them. They were in emblazoned on his mind.

From his crouched position beside the tombstone he idly flicked away a speck of dry dirt and leaned back on his haunches.

She had called to him, asking him if he was a perfectionist all the time. Her laugh had still been in the air as he had turned to her and saw her smile at him. He had returned the smile and finished folding his clothes and placing them on the chair near his bed. As he had faced the bed he remembered the way she had lain there. On her side watching him, her red eyes glowing softly in the dim light of his room, she had offered out her hand to him. Walking over quietly he had taken it like he had the all the other times before.

They had been 'together' for a while. She would come up to his room and spend the night sometimes. He wasn't too sure what 'it' had been between the two of them. He had been flattered when he had found out that she, Seras Victoria, had a crush on him. He had been taken aback when she had told him, as she blushed madly and clenched her hands in front of her. It had been a long night and by the morning he had found himself waking up next to her in his bed. No one was more surprised than he was. They had come together in some hope of finding comfort and warmth in the cold dark world in which they lived. Both had known that it wouldn't last forever, it was the nature of the beast considering that one of them was undead. The life they lived was dangerous and deadly. Each mission was potentially was their last one and they didn't take for granted the time they had.

For a while he had felt alive again. For the first time in a long while felt he was once again participating in the human race. He had forgotten how warm a gentle touch could be until her soft caresses had woken him to the sensation again. She had grown so much in such a short time; he supposed that it came from seeing and surviving so much death and destruction. He used to watch her as she slept beside him. Pale eyelashes fluttering as she curled up next to him, she would move closer unconsciously seeking the heat of his body. He would reach out and with the tip of his finger just trace her shoulder, trying to memorise the creamy soft texture of her skin.

It had only been an hour, or was it two, since she had been in his arms, about to leave on that mission. She had been tugging on her boots while blowing a bang out of her face, joking around with him. She had seemed strange though. Her laugh had been a little too loud; her smile a little too big as it didn't seem to match her eyes. Her eyes hadn't been smiling, there had been no laughter behind them as she looked at him from the door. He had wondered afterwards if she had known what was about to happen. Did she smell her own death in the air or hear the bell tolling for her with those extra-heightened senses? The way she had walked out the door and turned around to look at him had given him a horrible twisting feeling in his stomach. Maybe she had seen the unease he felt and that was why she came back to him and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. As he held her he sighed and stroked her back, smelling her hair faintly as she squeezed him slightly. He was sure that it was supposed to comfort him but when she pulled away and slowly let go of his hands it had just made the knot inside clench tighter. It was a kiss goodbye. When he watched her walk out the door he gave her a forced smile as she turned around and winked at him, uttering her last words to him.

"No rest for the wicked huh?" She laughed.

Then she was gone. He had wrapped his arms around himself as everything suddenly went cold. That was the last time he had seen her 'alive' and well.

It didn't seem real when he had then had to hold her still body in his arms, pressing his hand to her gaping wound, trying to stop the gushing blood. Snow was falling fast all around them and the ground was think with it. Everything was deathly still as the silence surrounded them became roaring in his ears after the destruction which had just taken place. The hellish mission that had caused his lover to lie dying in his arms. What blood she hadn't been choking on had been spattered across the snow. The red and white surrounding them was a macabre picture imprinted in his mind. Looking into scarlet, glazed over eyes he had tried to coax her back but it had been too late. He held her cold body as she slipped away, the light behind her eyes dwindling as she focused on him for a moment. Gurgling blood she gripped on to his arm weakly and smiled at him. He wiped some of the blood away from her mouth as she continued to gaze up at him. Touching her cheek tenderly he stayed with her as she finally closed her eyes and went still. She was gone.

He held her stiff body in his arms as he looked up at the falling snow. The sky was white and falling on him, cold creeping into his bones. Snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes, which were not fluttering as they used to when she was asleep. No, they had been still, unmoving, just like the rest of her now. Unmoving and cold. He hugged her close trying to keep her warm, in some vain hope of deceiving himself that she was merely asleep. But she was gone, it was over. She had left him where he couldn't follow her. Was she at peace? Had she met her father and mother? Was she in heaven looking down on him as people sometimes said? He had always thought that it was an illusion that those that had been left behind would say to themselves to let them sleep at night. He wished with all his heart that it were true. Heaven and hell. He had seen hell; stared at it in the face as screams of the dying filled his ears and he thought he would go deaf from the noise. Could there be a heaven then? It made sense you couldn't have one with out the other.

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed there in the snow with her until he had picked her up. Then Alucard had appeared and stood for a moment, taking in the scene, before he had held out his arms to take her. He had cradled her in his arms not that unlike the first time he had brought her out of Cheddar village. She seemed so small and doll like then in her master's arms. He couldn't tell what Alucard's thought or feelings were as he held his fledgling in his arms. His face was that unreadable mask that it usually was. The only thing that gave him away was the brush of his fingers sweeping a bang from her face. Then they had both walked out, chins up and stiff backed to face the world again.

Almost three months had gone by here he was, sitting by her headstone. He came to look after her; even now. He supposed it was a habit that he couldn't let go of, or didn't want to let go of. It felt strange; he hadn't felt like this in a long time. He had lost so many people he had cared for in the past till the sharp pain that came with it dulled to an ache that he carried within himself. He was used to it. After all it wouldn't do to break down each time something like this happened. If he had then he never would have been able to fulfil his duties. Those duties were the only constant in his life. But seeing her name there in stone hit something inside of him that he hadn't felt in years. A painful twinge within him. But he traced his fingers over the lettering and smiled at it. Sighing he stood up slowly, the creak in his joints reminding him of his age. Brushing down his trousers he looked down at the tombstone. He would be back here soon, as Sir Integra would want to come by again. He walked back a few steps and turned around starting to make his way back to the car.

Whispered words of farewell were carried off by the wind as he smiled and closed his eyes. "No rest for the wicked, huh?"


End file.
